Embrace the Fire

by Felice Stevens

  The judge took a few moments, then directed her gaze to Johnny. “Young man, you have a lot of people in your corner.”

  Connor nudged Johnny. “You’re allowed to answer her.”

  “He’s right. I don’t bite.” She smiled for the first time.

  “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

  “I hope you won’t let them down.” Her smile disappeared as quickly as it had come.

  “I won’t. I promise.” Johnny looked to both Tash and Connor.

  “Good.” She closed the file. “I’ll continue the programs and ask for another report in six months.” Once again, she smiled at Johnny. “I’d like to hear that you’ve received your diploma, young man.” She stood and left the courtroom.

  “Is that it?” Johnny looked shell-shocked.

  Connor, who was putting his files away in his briefcase, laughed. “Yeah. She’s a straight-shooter. Keep your nose clean, and do what you’ve been doing, and you’ll be fine.”

  Tash checked his watch and saw it was close to four o’clock. “I gotta go, guys, but I’ll see you later this week, Johnny.” He thanked Connor and waved his farewell to Jerry, who stared at him with an unreadable expression. Tash hurried out of the courtroom and strode down the hall, texting Ash that he was ready to leave.

  He received an answer almost immediately. Come to my office, and we’ll leave from there.

  “Tash.”

  He spun around to see Jerry standing behind him.

  “I can’t hang around. I need to leave.”

  “I know where you’re going, and I’d like to go with you. I’m off duty. I wouldn’t be coming in any official capacity except as a friend.”

  Tash continued to walk, and Jerry matched him stride for stride. “I don’t know. Brandon might freak out knowing you’re a detective.”

  “I spoke to Luke, and he’s fine with it, but he told me to check with you.”

  Tash’s mind spun as he thought. If the local police showed up, maybe it would be a good idea for Brandon to have someone with him from law enforcement. Between Ash and Jerry, Brandon would have powerful allies on his side.

  “All right, let’s go. We’re meeting Ash at his office.”

  As he and Jerry hurried out of the courthouse, Tash could only hope Brandon would be coming back with him when this was all over.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  “Brandon? Oh, my goodness. It is you. I’m not dreaming, am I?” His mother took a few tottering steps back to clutch at the door frame. Her frightened gaze remained on his face.

  Alarmed that she might faint and hurt herself, Brandon put a gentle hand on his mother’s shoulder to steady her. “No. It’s me.” He swallowed hard. “Can I come in?”

  “Of course, you can. I can’t believe this. God is good. He is merciful. I prayed every night since you left, every single night, and now he’s answered my prayers.” She kept talking as he slid his arms around her fragile shoulders, wincing at the feel of her bony frame through the threadbare robe and housedress.

  He led her to the tiny living room, away from the chill of the front hall. They sat on the lumpy sofa, Brandon amazed that he still remembered to avoid the middle cushion where the springs were close enough to the surface to jab you through your clothes.

  Tina Munson had been a pretty young woman when he came to live with her and Paul Munson so many years ago, but a lifetime of abuse and hopelessness had drained whatever beauty she might have once possessed. Her mental state could only be fragile at best. With sadness, Brandon noticed the webbing of lines crisscrossing her face and the dull gray swathes in her once-luxurious dark hair.

  She clutched the tiny cross on the necklace she always wore and mumbled to herself, and he waited, knowing she was praying. When she finished, she opened her eyes and smiled through her tears.

  “I waited so long for this day. Why did you leave me? What made you run away?”

  This was harder than he’d thought. For years he’d hidden, and now that the time had come for him to confess, the words died in his throat. The disheveled little house reeked of poverty and hopelessness. It was obvious the death of Munson had taken its toll on her physically and mentally. How could he tell her that he was the one who’d killed her husband?

  “Brandon, dear. Please talk to me. I’ve been so lonely here, all by myself. You…you know Paul died, right?” She hugged herself around the waist. “It was such a shock when they found him.”

  “Who found him?”

  “Aaron Masters and Samuel Zinn. He never should’ve been drinking so much.”

  Brandon stared at her. “What? What do you mean?” The thump of his pounding heart almost drowned out her words.

  “Didn’t you know? I thought you must have heard or read it in the newspapers. He’d been drinking at that bar, Imitations, right off Route 61. I warned him so many times not to drink so much because he always got into fights, but”—she pushed back her hair with a trembling hand—“he didn’t ever listen to me. He left the bar after the bartender cut him off. All I know is he was found by the side of the road, beaten and bloody.”

  A fitting end to a monster. It took all of Brandon’s strength not to fall apart from the years spent holding himself together.

  “He was at a bar?” With the roaring in his ears, Brandon wasn’t quite sure if he was awake and speaking or if this whole day was a nightmare suddenly turned dream. “But I thought…” He stopped, unable to continue and process how, with one small sentence, his life had been handed back to him.

  “You thought what, dear?”

  Brandon shook his head, unable to speak. It was over, all over. All at once he was dizzy with freedom and drunk on life. He wanted to scream from the rooftops and run down the street. But most of all, he wanted Tash. He didn’t care anymore what Tash’s sister thought. Life was meant for living, and he’d be damned if anyone would tell him whom he could love.

  After he finished here, he’d return to that cozy carriage house and refuse to leave until Tash understood that not another day would go by without the two of them spending it together.

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  And it didn’t. The pain had slipped away like sand through his fingers, leaving nothing behind. He was cleansed, freed from the darkness and secrets he’d lived with for so long like a second skin. He was ten pounds lighter and ready, for the first time, to begin again. Restored, alive, and anxious to take back a life he’d almost given up on.

  “How have you been living here?” He looked around at the horrid little house. Even without the frightening presence of Munson, the house huddled within itself, as if preparing for whatever unhappiness might cross its doorstep.

  “I have my social security, and the church helps me.” She lifted her chin and a spark of some long-ago passion flared, not yet dimmed by her miserable life. “I work in the office. I don’t take charity.”

  Brandon’s heart went out to her. This diminutive woman had suffered so much, silently and with dignity. She was as much a victim, if not more, than he and his brothers were, trapped in a never-ending cycle of abuse and pain.

  “I prayed for you boys, all three of you. I was happy that you made it out. Because no matter where you ended up, it had to have been better than here. And I’m sorry.” Tears poured from her faded eyes. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t strong enough to protect you, and poor Luke, and Ash. You deserved so much better than I gave. I wanted children so badly. God was right not to let me be a mother. Look at what I let happen to you boys.” She crumbled into herself, crying softly.

  Brandon gathered her in his arms, letting her weep. It had to be cathartic for her. “It’s going to be okay. We’re all fine.” He rubbed her back, murmuring to her. “Everything’s going to be okay now.”

  “I’m so glad he’s dead.” She lifted her head from his shoulder and brushed the hair out of her wet eyes. “I know we shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but God forgive me, he was an evil, cruel man, and he deserved it for everything he did.” Her sh
oulders shook.

  “Did you know?” Brandon had to ask.

  “I know how he beat you and how he hurt Luke so badly that last night. I called the police and the ambulance to come to the house. That poor child.” Her eyes clouded with grief. “I only hope he made it through and could forgive me in his soul.”

  She didn’t mention Ash, and Brandon wouldn’t. It wasn’t his story to tell, and he doubted Ash would ever bring it up. “I’m a teacher now, Mom. I live in New York City and teach children.”

  Her face lit up. “Oh, like you always wanted. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart.” She hugged him, light as a bird. “Let me make us some tea, and we can sit in the kitchen and talk. I want you to tell me everything.”

  Brandon stood and helped his mother off the sofa, keeping his arm around her as they walked to the back of the house. There was no family room in the tiny house, only the kitchen where he would sit with his mother after school and do his homework while she gave him a snack. It was the one room that radiated warmth. The only place he’d ever seen his mother relax—whether she was baking, cooking, or praying at the table before their meals.

  He sat at the worn wooden table with its faded tablecloth and cheap plastic place mats, feeling like the years had rolled back and he was a child again. She boiled the water and gave him a plain white mug with a store-brand tea bag. She sat across from him with a mug of her own that Brandon could see held only boiled water. It occurred to him then she might not have another tea bag to use.

  Like a slap in the face it hit him how far he’d moved ahead with his life, while here in the countryside, time stood still. Everything was as he’d left it eight years earlier—the faded wallpaper with the water spots from the leak in the ceiling when it stormed, down to the kitschy salt and pepper shakers he’d made in school. He, on the other hand, had gotten his education, become a teacher, and fallen in love.

  “Tell me, do you have a girlfriend or someone special?” Her hopeful eyes glanced up at him, shy yet curious.

  His gaze skittered away. “I do have someone special.” Given his mother’s religious fervor, Brandon didn’t think it was the right time to bring up the fact that his someone special was a man.

  “But?” She looked perplexed. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m not sure if they realize how much I care for them.”

  Her gaze held his. “Are they good to you?”

  Remembering Tash’s probing kisses and the unfettered joy in his smile, Brandon couldn’t hold back his happiness. “Yes. The best. I never thought I’d fall in love, and yet there was never any choice as soon as we met.”

  She squeezed his hand. “I’m so happy for you. You deserve it.” She stood and took away the teacups. Brandon noticed how she saved his used tea bag, and his heart clenched in his chest. “Let me make you something to eat.” She opened the ancient refrigerator and frowned. “I remember you boys loved tuna fish sandwiches. Would you like one?”

  Although he knew it might be her last can, Brandon couldn’t refuse without hurting her pride. “I’d love one, Mom.” When she smiled at his endearment, he made a decision. When the time came for him to return home, he’d be bringing her back with him. Ash and Luke would learn to deal with it. He watched her move about the kitchen, opening the can and mixing in the mayonnaise, her happiness increasing with her actions.

  She slid a sandwich on plain white bread in front of him, watching him anxiously as he bit into it.

  “Wonderful,” he said, his mouth full of the sandwich. How many afternoons had he spent sitting here, eating a sandwich exactly like this, while his mother puttered around the kitchen cleaning up, singing hymns? With the space of time and faded memories, he could almost think of his childhood with fondness. Minus the beatings and the verbal abuse.

  Back in Georgia he, Ash, and Luke would all fight to help her make cookies, each one grabbing the spoon or the bowl from the other until she would separate the cookie dough into three bowls and give each of them one of their own. If he tried hard enough, he could smell the vanilla and sweet chocolate in the air.

  “How long can you stay?” She looked out of the window at the sun, which crept along the bright horizon. “Do you have a car, or did you take the bus?”

  When he’d left Esther’s this morning, Brandon honestly thought he’d be going to jail. He hadn’t planned for anything past tonight. “I took the bus. But I have the rest of the week off if I need to take it.”

  “It would be wonderful to have you here with me.” He grimaced, and she added hurriedly, “But I understand if you don’t want to.” She braced her arms on the edge of the sink and hung her head. “I’m sure you must hate me for being such a weak woman. I hate myself. If I’d only stood up to him, had more of a backbone, you never would’ve run away. I could’ve saved Luke, maybe.” A fresh torrent of tears poured down her face. “God only knows what happened to poor Ash.”

  “Mom, please don’t cry.” Brandon slipped his arms around her. “They’re fine. I promise.” He could feel her stiffen in his arms.

  “You hardly ever called me that; none of you boys did. I understood although it hurt my heart. I always wanted children. I always wanted to be somebody’s mother, but like I said, God was right not to give me a child with what I let you boys go through.”

  She pulled back to gaze up into his face. “And yet you grew up into a beautiful young man, kind and caring. A teacher.” She touched his face with a shaking hand and whispered, “It couldn’t have been all bad, right?”

  He shook his head.

  It wasn’t. There were some good memories to offset their past unhappiness. He knew as the youngest they’d all shielded him from most of the misery in the house. His foster mother had even sneaked him some money sometimes so he could get candy. Being with Ash and Luke were the best times of his life, the only times he recalled pure happiness, whether they were fooling around by the creek in the summer or snuggled together watching Saturday morning cartoons. He refused to let the evilness of Munson destroy the patchwork of memories that made up his childhood.

  The defeat in his mother’s voice broke his heart. “When you leave, will you please let me know how you’re doing this time? I understand why you wouldn’t want to see me anymore, but a phone call every once in a while to keep in touch would be nice.”

  He didn’t say anything but held her closer. For a second he thought she might resist, but then she settled against his chest.

  “Come home with me when I leave. Now that I’ve seen you, I’d never forgive myself if I left you here.”

  “This is my home, dear.”

  “Mom, please. I can help you. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you stayed here all alone.”

  “You forget, Brandon dear, I’ve been alone all my life.” The quiet dignity in her voice slayed him. “Even when you boys were here, you didn’t need me all that much—you had each other. And Paul…” She stopped and shuddered. “I thought marriage was a sacred thing, but I was as wrong about that as I was with everything else in my life.”

  His heart broke for her. He and his brothers, by miracle, luck, and sheer strength of will, had managed to climb out and move beyond the fires of their personal hells to create their own lives. Their mother hadn’t been so lucky. Trapped by poverty, defeat, and lack of a social structure to help her, she’d believed there was no way out.

  “How about if I stay here tonight, and tomorrow we can talk about the future?” He returned to the table to eat his sandwich. While he personally didn’t have much in the way of resources, once Ash and Luke learned of their mother’s plight, he knew they’d offer her the moon.

  Her delighted smile was all the answer he needed. He finished his sandwich and insisted on doing the dishes. Then, despite her protests, he went through the house and fixed what he could. He changed all the burned-out lightbulbs. She confessed they’d been that way for years, but she was afraid to stand on a chair to change them herself. He found Munson’s old workbox and tacked dow
n the frayed carpeting where it had bunched up in places or lay torn. The windows in the living room had never opened, so he oiled and then washed them all in both the living room and kitchen.

  Sunlight faded into the lavender twilight of early evening, and as Brandon continued to work, his mind busied itself with logistics. He knew he’d be bringing his mother back, but she needed a place to stay. Certainly Ash or Luke would help with that. Both of them had room in their homes for her. He climbed the narrow staircase to the second floor and took a deep breath before entering the room he’d occupied as a teenager.

  To his shock, it was almost as he’d left it. Though it was free of dust, nothing had really changed. He walked inside and touched various books on the shelves, then sat on his narrow twin bed, staring out the window at the darkening night sky.

  “I waited for you, hoping you’d come back, but deep down I always knew you weren’t mine to keep. None of you were.” His mother walked into the room and sat on the chair at the narrow desk pushed up against the wall. “I didn’t deserve any of you.”

  Brandon collected his thoughts before he spoke. “After I left, I lived on the streets until the kindness of a stranger made me realize my life was worth something. He also made me think about doing good for others and living a life that had meaning.” Even now, so many years later, Brandon missed Gabriel’s counsel and guidance. He spoke from his heart, knowing Gabriel would be proud.

  “You’re the only mother I’ve ever known, and I love you. I’m sorry for leaving you here with him and not helping when he hurt you. I was too wrapped up in my own misery and uncertainty. I was wrong for running away, knowing how he treated you. I’m surprised you don’t hate me.”

  “I could never hate you. Though you aren’t my blood, you’ll always be my child. I never stopped worrying about you, any of you boys. And you made more of yourself than if you’d stayed here with me. For that I’m grateful. But what was your uncertainty?”

  “Because I’m gay, Mom. I know you don’t approve because of the church and everything, but it’s who I am.” He sneaked a look at her, and to his surprise, her face remained unchanged.